


aere perrenius

by sovereignelk



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alchemy, Duelling, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Enemies, Hate to Love, M/M, Minecraft, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potions, Sparring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sovereignelk/pseuds/sovereignelk
Summary: "more lasting than bronze.";;dream stayed just as still as he was silent, swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat after hearing the shorter's intense words. his grip on the handle of his sword tightened, making george take an indiscreet step back instinctively, eyes flickering from the adventurer's mask to his sword."i didn't know you felt that way," dream whispered, biting his lip under the concealment of his mask, which did such a good job at hiding his emotions it was to a fault.george didn't know how to respond. he had so much more to say, of course, but for some reason he couldn't find the words he wanted. they lingered on the tip of his tongue -- he could even taste them -- but for some reason his body didn't want to say them. as much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt guilty.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. i. see you again

**GEORGE GLARED AT THE** tall adventurer sitting leisurely on the counter of his family's kiosk, snacking on a bright green apple, iron sword haphazardly leaned against the wood of the counter, sharp tip drilling into the ground. he had his white mask pulled up just high enough so he could eat, but otherwise his face was entirely covered. his green hood was pulled up over his dirty blonde hair, the sleeves rolled up to show dirt-scuffed, scarred arms battered and calloused from years of monster-hunting. 

"george, you know what they say," sapnap chimed from beside him where he was stacking freshly-cut logs.

the shorter adventurer groaned. "what?" he spat venomously, his bitterness met with a playful whistle.

"no need to get so aggressive," sapnap defended, smiling. "but if you keep staring at him, you might fall in _love~_ " he sang the last syllable, tempting george to kick his smug face into the dirt paths. 

"literally _no one_ says that!" the shorter hissed, pulling the axe from where it was stuck in the ground. "i'm going to go get more wood."

"have a fun time, and remember not to stare at dream too much~!" 

oh, george really wanted to whip around the throw the heavy metal axe right between the annoying woodcutter's forehead. but, he restrained himself, instead stalking off into the forest to find a nice tree to chop down. he found a nimble birch standing strong in solitude in the middle of the oak forest; it stuck out like a sore thumb. he let the axe thump to the ground, giving the thin tree a examination to make sure it was in good terrain to chop comfortably without having to chase after a stray log.

he placed his hand to the peeling bark, murmuring a small apology for what he was about to do. he scooped up the axe, drawing it back and holding his breath. he aimed, closed his eyes, beginning to throw the axe forward at the once beautiful, tall tree --

"i wouldn't do that if i were you." 

"bloody _hell_!" his body jerked, the axe flying out of his hands, followed by the ear-splitting clang of metal. he winced at the loud sound, whipping around to see who had interrupted him.

to his surprise, dream was standing not too far, lazily holding an iron sword at his side, free hand stuffed in his pocket. hatred immediately made his blood boil and his eyes narrow, past grudges rearing their ugly heads. he licked his teeth, swallowing the anger rising so quickly in his chest it began to surge into his mouth.

"leave the tree alone," dream murmured, sheathing his sword on his back. "it's special." he placed his hand on the bark, looking up at the canopy of leaves doing a poor job of blocking away the sun. 

"what're you on about?" george hissed, placed his hands on his hips to keep from strangling the ridiculously tall adventurer in front of him. "it's just a tree." 

dream looked down at him at the shorter with a dirtiest look george had ever recieved, even if he couldn't see dream's face. "it's a special tree. it doesn't belong here. it reminds me of you." 

george groaned, coming far too close to murdering the nonsense-speaking man in front of him. "you're speaking gibberish! i wouldn't expect much better from _you_ anyways, you're just a useless monster hunter. you're probably an illiterate failure like the rest of them. i'm surprised you lived this long, seeing as your iq is just as low as the amount of maths problems you can solve!" he angrily tapped his temple to further his point, visibly seething. "every few months you come marching back into the village acting like you never left! you come back covered in scars and blood and your clothes are ripped and your armor is just gone, and you just expect us to not be worried? i hate you!" 

dream stayed just as still as he was silent, swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat after hearing the shorter's intense words. his grip on the handle of his sword tightened, making george take an indiscreet step back instinctively, eyes flickering from the adventurer's mask to his sword. 

"i didn't know you felt that way," dream whispered, biting his lip under the concealment of his mask, which did such a good job at hiding his emotions it was to a fault. 

george didn't know how to respond. he had so much more to say, of course, but for some reason he couldn't find the words he wanted. they lingered on the tip of his tongue -- he could even taste them -- but for some reason his body didn't want to say them. as much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt guilty.

"george . . . " dream sighed, turning his back on the angry man he once called friend. "why do you think i became a hunter?"

the shorter scoffed. "why're you asking me, mr. know-it-all?" 

"i'm asking you," dream snapped, turning back sharply. "why do you think i became a hunter? honestly, not some lie to get under my skin."

it was quiet for a moment, only the sound of tree leaves rustling and animals combatting the tension in the air. george cleared his throat, licking his lips. "you had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. you were hopeless, so you turned to the next best thing." 

their eyes met, and for some reason george felt like dream was actually looking at him, even if his mask didn't permit him to see at all. the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. the shorter steeled himself before finishing, digging the heels of his boots into the dirt. 

"you were afraid. you wanted to escape." 

dream audibly gulped. "you're right," he whispered, his knuckles turning white as how tight he balled his fists. "i was afraid -- i still am."

george's mouth dropped open a little, eyes widening. "i . . . i didn't expect that." his eyes darted around, landing anywhere but the tall hunter in front of him. "i expected to see your fighting spirit, the one that supposed to _'protect your honour'_ ," he air-quoted.

dream let out a soft sigh. "the best way to protect my honor is to stay truthful. a liar has no respect." he looked back up at the birch tree. "i learned that just a few weeks ago. i sat down with the cleric in the savannah and he gave me his wisdom. you see, george," he reached into the leather pouch hanging off his belt, "the world was cruel to me, and many of the other hunters i met on my journeys, but we all persevered -- we grew together, even if we were miles apart. 

"there's a reason we all leave our villages, our families. everything happens for a reason, george." he pulled a blue orb out of his pocket about the size of his palm. it was a dark blue, and milky, something swirling around inside if it. "this," he held it up in front of his face, casting a soft blue glow onto his mask, "is an ender pearl. this was my reason. there's a beast somewhere called the ender dragon, and she's holding our ancestors hostage, trapped in the bodies of tall, slender monsters with skin as black as coal and glowing purple eyes. i need to free them.

"i need to free the end." he pressed the pearl to his forehead, the glassy surface clinking against his mask. george saw the faint glint of a tear roll out of the confines of his mask and drip off of his jawline -- the one time his emotions were put on display, even for just a moment.

george took a hesitant step forward. "i didn't know that. i'm sorry." 

it was quiet again. the sun was crawling closer and closer to the horizon, painting the sky in bright colors george didn't have the luxury of seeing, the pinks and reds and oranges appearing as thin yellows and browns with an occasional muted blue. 

dream stuffed the pearl back into his bag before continuing. "you remember how i used to be. reckless, selfish, narcissistic, dumb. but that whole time, i was so afraid of the people around me. how would they take the news? they would find out eventually. so, i left, and i tried my best not to look back, but the village wasn't just behind me anymore. it was living in me, and it wouldn't leave me."

dream took a step forward, much bolder than george's, his head tilting down a little more as they got closer. the atmosphere shifted with the light that went from a pale yellow to a dark red, a shade george wished he could see at a time like this. the cool breeze made him shudder, only dressed in his blue fabric shirt he made himself and a baggy pair of wool pants ripped at the knees from months of hard work. 

dream took a deep breath, carding his fingers through his thick hair before continuing. "this tree reminds me of you." he leaned forward, voice now just barely even a whisper. " _you don't belong here_." 

"george!" sapnap leaped down from a high branch, rolling a few times before landing on his back between dream and george. "oh, hey, dream," he greeted breathlessly. 

"hi?" the tallest waved, clearly confused by the boy's sudden appearance. 

sapnap gulped, licking his lips. "george, the clergy wants to see you."

"clergy?" dream looked around. "we have a clergy!? since when?"

sapnap pushed himself to sit up, coughing a little. "cleric, i mean cleric -- "

"clergy, sapnap?" george laughed, playfully kicking the boy. "really?" 

"shut up!" sapnap grabbed the boy's foot, and pulling it out from under him, cackling at the way he squealed as he fell. dream joined in, wheezing in sync with the the woodcutter, and for the first time in so long, george felt . . . normal in the presence of the tall adventurer. a little embarrassed, seeing as he was just tripped by one of the clumsiest men alive, but still normal.

"boys!" an angry woman snapped, ceasing the three boys' infectious laughter. "cleric eram wishes to see mr. found right now, not later!" sapnap's grandmother hissed, hands perched on her slender hips. 

"okay, okay!" sapnap groaned, stumbling to his feet, still a little winded. "we're coming!" 

george sat up, dusting his shirt off quickly. dream extended his hand, which adorned a worn fingerless glove, his nails tinted green with a substance george was happier not knowing. the shorter hesitantly took it, letting the adventurer pull him up, his feet dangling just above the grass for a moment from both dream's strength and his height. sapnap thumped the boy on the back.

"good luck. i heard cleric eram can get a little . . . _intense_ at times."


	2. ii. the cleric

**SAPNAP WAS UNFORTUNATELY RIGHT:** cleric eram was very intense. each of his movements were sharp and calculated, his voice a gravelly rumble low in his crater-like chest. he was a tall, clean-shaven man with thick black hair despite his age with bright eyes george couldn't see the color of. his hands were tucked into his wide maroon sleeves, his robes embroidered with golden silk in gorgeous spiraling designs. his eyes creased at the sides as he smiled warmly, gesturing to the creaky wooden chair in front of his dark oak desk.

"please, mr. found," he said, "take a seat."

george complied, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. "am i in trouble, mister . . . mister uhm . . . " he cleared his throat, "mister cleric?" 

the cleric laughed, his wide shoulders bouncing, and it was then george realized how unbelievably large that man was. "you can just call me eram. but no, mr. found, you're not in trouble. i called you here because i feel you need some guidance. am i correct?" he picked up a piece of parchment and plucked his quill from the inkwell.

george gulped. "i don't know what you're talking about. i'm perfectly fine here in the village."

the cleric folded his large hands, leaning forward with a knowing smile. "i never mentioned the village, mr. found." 

for some reason, george wanted to smack that wise grin off his face sunken with age, his hands balling into tight fists. he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, not stopping even when it began to bleed profusely, so much so that it began to stain his front teeth when his tongue darted out to wet his chapped lips.

"maybe you aren't as secure with your future as you want to be," the cleric added, drawing in a deep breath. "someone came and spoke to me about you. they said you needed guidance, a helping hand, some wisdom, before tomorrow." 

george swallowed the mass amount of blood pooling in front of his teeth, pushing back a cringe at the bitter metallic flavor. "what's happening tomorrow?" his voice was more of a croak, staring deeply into the man's eyes in challenge. 

"we'll get there," the large man dismissed, waving his hand through the stale air of his tower. "but, first, let's tackle the problem just presented to us." 

"there _is_ no problem," george growled, heart racing and pounding against his ribcage. 

cleric eram hummed. "you can't act like nothing's wrong for much longer. the people around you are starting to notice." the large man sighed, his eyes falling closed for just a moment. "think about it, young one."

george hated that name. it made him feel like a child, not a fully capable 23 year old. 

"what is it you truly want?" the cleric opened his bright eyes. "fame? money? skill?"

" _no, no,_ and _maybe_ , but i can find skills here," george answered. "bad is giving knife throwing lessons, sapnap promised to teach me how to sword fight, skeppy's gonna teach me how to set traps, and eret wants to teach me how to stalk." 

the cleric laughed softly. "so you want to learn to fight? why is that, do you think?" 

"i don't know." 

"is there someone you want to beat?" the large man blinked a few times. "because, if there is, the best person to learn from is dream whilst he's in town. he's the most experienced in hand-to-hand--" 

"NO!" george cleared his throat, calming down as well. "i mean, no. he . . . doesn't like me much." 

"oh, really?" the cleric quirked a brow. "because he came to visit me earlier. he wouldn't be quiet about you and how excited he was to see you again."

"really?" george croaked, voice cracking in the middle. he placed a hand over his mouth. his evasion was a failure. "oh . . . ."

the cleric glanced at the gold clock above the door, clicking his tongue and standing. he stacked the parchment on his desk, setting it off to the side as george watched him with wide eyes.

"it is time for a meeting with the chief," eram explained, tightening the knot at the front of his flowing robes. "come to the bridge at dawn, no later." the cleric set his leather hat on his head, grabbing a few papers and storing them under his arm. "until next time, mr. found."

and, with that, the large man dashed out of his stone tower, hurrying down the dusty paths turned muddy from rain. the sun had set by now, faint golden strands of light just barely dipping above the horizon jagged with mountains. the air in the tower was stuffy and suffocating, but george was frozen in his chair. he didn't know what to think, what to feel, what to do. 

_surely i'm happy in the village,_ he thought to himself, taking in a shallow breath, his lungs feeling like they were clamped off halfway through. _this is all i've ever wanted: stay in the village, settle down with a nice woman, have many children -- what everyone else wants. this is what i want, isn't it?_ oh, he wanted to say yes so badly, but it didn't feel right. nothing about that boring, sullen future seemed appealing, the monotony already making his ears ring and his throat constrict in pure agony. a life the same as the man next to him was even more painful than a short one ended too early by the piercing, furious arrow of a nemesis fueled by grudges built years ago. 

george wanted to wake up every day wondering if it would be his last. he wanted to fearlessly charge into a swarm of monsters, shield covering his bruised face and blocking potentially deadly arrows. he wanted to stand his ground in the depths of the hellish landscape deemed 'the nether', plunging a pristinely sharpened sword into the ribcage of the charred remains of man, only to hold it's skull high above his head in triumph. he wanted to stare an enderman in the eye, hitting his shield with the pommel of his sword, urging the tall beast to challenge him.

that was the life george wanted, not a generic, picture perfect village life spent with an equally as generic wife. he wanted to separate himself from tradition: maybe that's why he didn't want a wife, or even just a woman, at all.


	3. iii. meet me at midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "george," dream interjected, "take this." he held out one of the swords, which the shorter stared at blankly, still stunned from what he had just learned. the adventurer shoved it against his chest, forcing the elder to grab it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big pog

**GEORGE HAD BEEN WAITING** at that window for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the moon to hang perfectly over the village, signifying dawn. it was beginning to creep closer to the overhead area, and george jumped from his seat, grabbing his leather jacket alyssa had made for him a few months back, dashing out of the door. he had been oddly excited for whatever the cleric had in store for him, so much so the day that usually felt far too short began to drag.

the world was fairly quiet except for the usual groan of the undead and the clanging of skeletons' brittle bones, which was a little odd considering the time and weather. his boots suctioned to the muddy paths, making it harder for his growing impatience to be pacified. the bridge was dimly lit, per usual, but there was just enough illumination to make out two figures, one wider and the other taller, both with large hoods concealing their features even more. the shorter was dressed in billowing robes, a hand placed on his bulky belt that seemed to be loaded with potions and a single book at his side -- a spellbook. he must be an alchemist. the other was tall with broad shoulders a tightly fitting clothes, one sword sheathed on his hip, the other held in his large hand. his hood fell over his shoulders, stopping just at the bottom of his ribcage, just shy of being called a cape. 

as george neared, he saw two more people, one he recognized as cleric eram, the other a mystery. they were a decent height, dressed in a long coat with a band of colors wrapping around their chest. around their neck was a pendant, the chain heavy gold yet still seeming to strain holding it up, despite it's rather small appearance. they had a kind expression, a soft smile seeming to naturally rest on their handsome face. they were slender, almost as if they would break at the slightest touch, but they had a certain air of power surrounding them. their hood was pulled up, strands of ginger-ish brunette hair peaking out, along with a few strands of pure white, even though they looked rather young. 

"george!" the cleric called as george neared, a large smile drawn on his slightly wrinkled features. "come quickly, quickly now," he ushered, jogging to meet the boy, setting a hand on his back to speed him up. "i have someone i would like you to meet."

george looked around, now with a closer view: he immediately recognized bad, who smiled warmly at him, waving a little. he returned it, feeling a little more secure in the man's presence -- however, that safety didn't last long, his eyes immediately settling on a white mask with a lopsided smiley face drawn on the front. he raised one of the swords in almost a salute, and george bit back the urge to scoff. _why is_ he _here?_

"this is fundy." the cleric gestured to the person george had seen before with the dark hair. "he's come from the taiga just to meet you."

george's eyes widened. "that's . . . a really long way," he muttered, to which fundy chuckled. "to meet me?" he clarified, pointing to himself. 

fundy began to laugh, his head tilting a little. "yes, to meet you. the cleric has told me a lot about you." he had an accent, not too strong but definitely there. "you're from the spruce forest, correct?" fundy flashed his teeth, the glittering canines catching george's eye, considerably longer than normal, but he brushed it off.

"yeah," george answered, a little surprised the man knew. "i am." 

"you have a very strong accent," the slender man pointed out. "it's pretty. i've always liked spruce dwellers' accents." 

"i like the taiga's accent as well," george returned the compliment. 

"enough with the accents!" dream groaned. "we have shit to do." 

"language!" bad yelled, thumping the adventurer on the back. "but yeah, dream's right." 

the cleric jerked his head towards george, giving an assuring smile fundy's way. "go ahead. it's best we get this out of the way before he figures out himself."

the slender man nodded, reaching into his robe to grab a piece of dirty parchment. he sighed heavily before unfolding it, running his fingers across the uneven surface of the paper, the pads of his fing ers covering in dust where they met the flyer. he hesitantly flipped it in his hand, holding it out to the village dweller, who gasped, grabbing the thick parchment immediately. fundy pushed his hood back, the two large fox ears that were sketched in ink on the flyer raising proudly above his head; they twitched with the breeze that ruffled his hair. they blended well with his streaked white hair.

the words 'wanted, dead or alive' were written in large red font, the name 'floris dierickx' just under the ink picture. the reward was 950,000 bits, a gigantic sum of money, so large george could barely even fathom it.

[a/n: ofc dierickx is not actually fundy's lastname, i just found it on a website for dutch surnames. if it his name its a lucky guess] 

"how . . . ?" was all george could manage to squeak out, staring in disbelief at the poster. 

fundy sighed, yet again flicking one of his ears. "multiple accounts of treason and assassination. i used to be strategist and trap maker for the kingdom, but regicide isn't an excusable crime."

"you're the one who killed queen sylvee?" george looked around at the others, but none of them seemed fazed in the slightest.

fundy looked down at his feet. "i had to," he murmured, tone melancholic, remorse shining in his large eyes. "i had no other choice. besides, princess niki is a better fit for the role. i know she will make wilbur her king. they'll make the perfect royal couple."

george glanced from the poster to the regicidal man in front of him, trying to piece everything together in his head. "you have . . . ears," he stated, even though it sounded more like a question. 

"i do." the fox smiled softly, though his eyes still held that same sullen glint. "my blood was fused with a fox when i was a baby. it helps with traps and assassinations, the natural slyness."

george gulped, handing the wanted poster back to the culprit it was presenting the bounty for. bad placed a hand on his shoulder, checking to make sure he was alright after all of the new information shoved down his throat just now. fundy tucked the paper away, pulling his hood up over his head and tucking his tall ears away.

"george," dream interjected, "take this." he held out one of the swords, which the shorter stared at blankly, still stunned from what he had just learned. the adventurer shoved it against his chest, forcing the elder to grab it. 

"what's this for?" he muttered, looking down at the sheath where the double-edged sword was stored. dream had already drawn his, running his thumb over the the fuller, his other hand gripping the handle tightly. he had wrapped and decorated it himself, seeing as he had owned it since he lived in the village around 3 years ago.

dream tossed his sheath to the side, hunkering down into a fighting stance, flicking the blade through the air in preparation. 

"i challenge you to a duel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ofc i had to make fundy a badass


	4. iv. the duel.

**GEORGE'S HEART POUNDED INZ** his ears, his mind screaming about how unfair this entire thing was. he was so very discombobulated, especially after meeting a renowned murderer that brutally slaughtered what was supposed to be the strongest woman in the world. now that same regicidal assassin was watching him duel what used to be his best friend, which he knew wasn't going to end well. 

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6 . . . " bad began, counting down the seconds until the duel truly began. dream seemed rather calm, but it was hard to tell if that's what he was actually feeling or not. "3, 2, 1!" the alchemist sliced his hand through the air, leaping back from where he stood between the two. "begin!" 

dream was the first to lunge forward, the blade of his sword swiping through the air, george staggering back in a quick attempt at staying alive. the adventurer's sword hit the side of the bridge, lodging itself in the wood, giving george just enough time to fall back and plan his own attack. 

dream placed his boot flat on the post, pulling his sword out just in time to whip around, metal clanging against metal as he blocked an attack. fundy whistled, muttering something to the cleric about the fight, who nodded scribbled something down in his journal. dream took full advantage of george's distracted state, throwing his body forward; the shorter was able to duck out of the way, but the shiny tip still drilled into his arm, piercing his leather jacket. dream pulled the blade back, the top end of it now bloodstained. 

george gripped his bicep, howling in agony and struggling to keep on his feet. dream wasted no time, flying forward yet again, this time with the intent to kill (bad could revive whichever one ended up dead first). the shorter steeled himself, bringing the metal up to meet the other, pushing the blade into the ground. he leaped backwards, straightening the sword out in front of himself, tip pressed against the adventurer's chest; he pressed forward, blood beginning to ooze out of the wound. dream groaned, stepping back, only to stumble and feel the wound worsen.

" _george_ . . . " dream groaned, wrapping a hand around the blade and squeezing, blood rolling down the iron in rivulets. 

george's heart wrenched, but he knew what he had to do. 

"GEORGE!" dream picked his foot up, kicking off of the shorter's chest and freeing himself from the sword point shoved in his chest just deep enough to hurt, but shallow enough to keep going.

fundy looked impressed. george looked pissed.

george regained composure, both men charging forward at one another, swords clashing violently, splatters of blood flying through the air. the shorter felt the cross-guard of dream's sword crush his cheekbone at the force used to jam it into his face. in retaliation, he roughly threw the pommel of his own weapon into the other's face, the crack of the mask the most satisfying sound george had ever heard. 

the taller staggered back, dropping to his knees. there was only around a quarter of the mask left, which dream was desperately holding onto. he hissed a curse, his head lifting to display bright, glittering eyes george couldn't see the proper color of. passion burned hot behind his irises, the flames licking his pupils dangerously. 

"you've made a mistake," dream murmured, stumbling to his feet. "a big fucking mistake, george found."

in the next few seconds, george was being tackled to the ground, the sharp tip of the taller's sword grazing his cheek as it was planted into the ground. dream was over him now, almost straddling him, mask cracked and scuffed, most of it missing entirely. his teeth were barred, the pearly whites streaked with blood from his lip that had busted when george hit him. he looked absolutely murderous, and george didn't doubt he really was. 

the shorter pressed a hand to dream's chest where he had previously been injured, making the taller hiss and recoil ever so slightly. george moved his bloodstained hand around dream, gripping the back of his shirt and pulling him off to the side with whatever strength he had left. 

"time's at half!" bad announced, pulling a splash potion of healing from his belt. "heads up, healing incoming!" the alchemist tossed the glass bottle into the air, watching it land next to the two men rolling around on the grass in blind homicidal rage. 

the bottle smashed to pieces on contact with the ground, the light red, almost pink particles, temporarily blinding the shorter man who was currently trying to aim his sword into his ex-friend's chest: his attempts were in vain again and again, dream's long arms grabbing onto him and messing with his aim each time. dream took advantage of the discombobulation, shoving the shorter off of him and dislodging his sword from the ground. 

"no!" george cried, tightening his grip on his own trusted blade. 

"is that the best you've got?" dream leaped to his feet, groaning in pain but still never faltering, hoping his unnatural bravado in such a tense situation would make the enemy back down. 

george's eyes narrowed. "not even close."

the potion had just begun to have it's effect by now, their wounds beginning to feel less painful and their darkening bruises fading out. they both stood up taller, flaring their shoulders and puffing their chests in an attempt to intimidate the other; however, their determination was enough to keep from faltering eveb a little, engrossed in the tense battle. 

the pain in george's arm had mostly dissipated, but the dull ache remained, which he wasn't too thrilled with.

"i call a pause!" fundy called suddenly, all eyes turning to him. "you both need to prepare yourselves better, this is the final half now. everything counts." 

bad bit his lip nervously, eyes shifting back and forth from dream and george to fundy and cleric eram. he was terrified of what they both would do to each other, what sort of mutilation they would undergo, worried it might be irreversible. they were both hesitant to truly fight at the beginning, but now that they were accustomed to the bloodshed there would be no stopping them until one of them won -- and that's not even a guarantee: they might get carried away, high on adrenaline still. 

"george," fundy called, snapping the alchemist out of his jumbled mind. "come with me. dream, go with the cleric."

george glanced back at dream one last time, their eyes meeting momentarily. his blood was brought to a boil, past hatred rearing it's ugly head. fundy placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of it and leading him back away from the small section of field they had dedicated to combat. 

george glanced up at the sky, beams of light beginning to stretch above the jagged horizon. the once dark sky was now turning to a pale blue, though it was more vibrant for george, seeing as it was one of the only colors he could see. the sun was rising fast, meaning they had to finish this fast. if they didn't, the people who trusted george the most -- sapnap, skeppy, tommy, tubbo, _all of them_ \-- would see him trying to kill someone he used to call friend. they would see him covered blood that didn't even entirely belong to himself, bruises given by someone he used to proclaim his love to on a regular basis. this isn't what he wanted, but it's what he needed. he didn't entirely know why, but something in him told him this was what he was meant to do all along. the amount of rage he had pent-up, along with the burning hatred that twisted in his gut, was enough combined for him to do this without prompting. it felt like a necessity, the bloodshed. 

"do you want to win this?" fundy asked, staring at the horizon, a hand perched on his belt. 

george was a little taken aback by the question. did he even have to ask? "of course i do." 

the fox nodded, pushing back one side of his cape and pulling out two short swords, no longer than his forearm. they were both shiny, unblemished except for the few inconsistencies in the metal. it was unlike anything george had ever seen before, from the silk fabric braided on the grip to the unfamiliar language carved at the bottom of the blade. it wasn't double-edged like the swords george had used, and it was rounded on one side to meet the tip, which was sharper than expected.

"this is a tanto," the fox explained, examining one of them. "i got it from the mountains. they're one of my most prized possessions." he slashed it through the air, smiling softly to himself; anyone could easily tell how much he loved the two blades. "they're for assassin type killings. they don't block, they would shatter. but, they're fast, easily concealed, make for a quiet death. they would fit you perfectly: small, lithe, and unpredictable." 

fundy turned, fully facing the man now. the light of the horizon cast a shadow across the front of him, making him more of a silhouette, which only added to the ambiguity of the situation. he took a careful step forward, flipping one of the swords in his hand and holding it by the end, a risky move if you didn't know what you were doing. he extended it, george wrapping a shakey hand around it.

"i want you to use it," the fox explained, voice a lot softer now. "it'll be easy. dream for some reason isn't using techniques at all, but i wouldn't be surprised if this was some sort of trap, waiting for you to stumble before the slaughter. he's waiting for the right time." 

"i can't take your blade." george shook his head. "i'm afraid of breaking it."

"you don't have a say. you're going to use it," the fox said, putting the other in his place quickly. he didn't waste time in switching the subject, though. "listen closely, here's the plan . . . "

◇

george seemed nervous now. he was shakey, his gaze wavering, unlike the confidence he displayed earlier in the battle. his hands were empty, clasped together in front of him, thumbs twirling around one another. _was he surrendering?_ surely not, fundy wouldn't allow that. dream contemplated the outcomes of the battle, and each one that came to his mind ended with himself triumphant. there wasn't enough room on george's person to be hiding a sword, his leather jacket gone to further the unlikelihood of a concealed weapon. unless he was planning to fight with his hands, which was a stupid move on it's own, even if they were both weaponless, seeing as dream was a lot taller and more muscular.

the cleric had gotten the adventurer's head back into the game, reminding him of the techniques and styles he had forgotten in the heat of the moment. he could've won by now, but he started off the duel so certain of his victory he never gave himself time to analyze and plan; he instead put himself at a hefty disadvantage. in a swordfight your own size and brute strength doesn't matter as much, and yet he believed george was too small to get far in the duel. 

dream got low to the ground, preparing to lunge forward and finish this battle once and for all. he wiped some extra blood off his lip and chin, hissing when be pushed a splinter from the broken mask further into the already tender flesh. he quickly regained composure, steeling himself once more and narrowing his green eyes. 

"begin!" bad's voice shot through the crisp air like the crack of a whip, both parties beginning their first move of the resumption.

dream dashed forward, george to the side, narrowly missing the presumably fatal attack. the taller looked over at him, the same murderous glare george had seen before feeling as if it could bore holes into his already ripped, threadbare shirt. 

the adventurer was quick to move again, his style never staying static, making it impossible to predict his movements. his erraticism made george nervous, his feet beginning to slip and his heart beginning to pound. he decided to cut this shorter than he originally intended, grabbing the silky handle of the tanto he had tucked in his wasteband and lunging forward.

he felt a solid body collide with his own, taking both down almost immediately. he held the blade against dream's neck, trying hard to keep it stationary when he could barely see behind the abundance of dust they both had kicked up. he drew a short breath in through his teeth before putting as much weight on the small blade as he could, feeling the skin tear gruesomely beneath the metal. he made sure to look away, afraid of the image that he knew would scar him for a fairly decent portion of his life. killing a man was far different than killing a zombie or a skeleton; they didn't bleed, nor scream, nor did they fight back. they didn't have a heartbeat, a conscious, emotions. they were the shells of what once was, the only living proof of generations before -- but they weren't really living at all. they were just tokens of the past, artifacts left to rot until they one day decided to stand again.

but dream was alive. living and breathing, the proof of life now, the evidence of the brave adventurers scavenging the land for whatever gruesome battle they could milk out of the world. he was one of the poker faced murderers that dedicated their lives to the protection of people they hadn't even met before, determined to find the cause behind the monsters that tried their very hardest to murder the living in cold blood. but did dream really do it for that? was he really that brave?

the answer was no. he wasn't. he forfeited his dreams as a librarian and author to go and put his life on the line out of fear. he was so deathly afraid of his mother finding out he liked boys instead of girls that he picked up a sword and swore his life to it. he married the blood on his hands, vowing he would never leave it behind, an irreversible fate he had sealed on his own, even if it was far from what he wanted. but now he couldn't imagine his life another way, addicted to the feeling of killing. he was the most human out of them all.

"STOP!" george cried, climbing off of dream in a fitful epiphany. he dropped the tanto to the ground, his eyes burning with tears, throat choked with raw emotion, something he hadn't felt in so long, too absorbed by the cloud of depression always looming over his head. "i can't do it. i won't do it. even if you can bring him back to life, i refuse." 

fundy gave a soft smile, dainty hands clasped behind his back. a sense of pride flared in his chest for a reason he couldn't exactly pinpoint. the cleric nodded to bad, who rushed forward with potions ready. he dropped to his knees beside a bloody dream, uncorking a small bottle of a fizzy red liquid that smelled strongly of citrus. he poures a few drops on the open wound just below his chin so large it could've been an extra mouth. acidic bile rose in george's throat, and he swallowed it down, averting his gaze. 

fundy walked over to george, who gave him a tight smile and a curt greeting. he was visibly unnerved, his mind feeling as if it was short-circuiting from his revelation. the fox grabbed his tanto from the grass, using his robe to rid it of the blood before tucking it back away.

"i'll have to give her a proper cleaning when i get back to the taiga," he murmured to no one in particular before looking up at george. "congratulations, george. you won." 

the village dweller gulped, his hands balling into tight fists. "yeah . . . yeah, i guess i did." 

"i would stay to celebrate with you, but the sun's almost up. i have to get going before someone sees me," fundy explained, patting the slightly taller man's back. "come visit me sometime. you still have a lot to learn."

george didn't know what to say, so instead he just gave a hesitant nod, still refusing to look at the fox. fundy gave one last charming smile before turning on his heel and pulling his hood up. he gave quick farewells to the others before beginning his journey back to the taiga, disappearing into the trees.

george wrestled with his mind. have i really won? what does it mean to win? was it worth it? is dream gonna hate me now? what does this mean? what will change now that i won? what's gonna happen to me? what will dream do? will he leave again? can i go with him this time, or do i have to stay here? do i want to stay here? is it worth it? is everyth ing here worth it? what about sap? and bad, and tommy, and mom? does mom even still love me? will she hate me now? will she let me leave? will she support me? will dad be proud? 

"george."

the village dweller looked up at the mention of his name, seeing dream standing there, a new mask concealing his features and injuries healed. however, there was still a nasty white scar left under his chin. 

"yeah?" george croaked, averting his gaze yet again. his stomach twisted with guilt. he prepared himself to be yelled at, slandered, and even worse, but to his surprise none of that happened.

instead, a hand was offered for him to take. "walk with me?" 

george carefully placed his hand into dream's calloused ones, trying his best to steady it. the adventurer noticed how he was shaking, but he only smiled, finding it cute, even if george came far too close to killing him just minutes ago.

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from wattpad.
> 
> i hope you guys like this ((: i worked pretty hard on it and im kinda proud of it.


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